tntandgasoline | [RL - Breakfast at Crane's]

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Current Location: Some rundown apartment, idk

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[RL - Breakfast at Crane's]

Morning in Gotham City is a lot like the rest of the day - smoggy, loud, and full of clown-faced crimelords carrying groceries into an apartment building.

The Joker, lately, has been really running out of patience. It might be Harvey's fault, really, since the bastard had made him pull on the reins, but the Joker isn't one to place blame on anyone in particular.

Still, now that he's gotten one thing down - breaking Harvey out of Wayne manor, ch-eck - and another in the works - have a good Valentine's Day, ch-eck - it's time to get to the least pressing - but potentially most fun - item on his agenda.

Wielding two plastic grocery bags filled with various bright colored boxes, a half-gallon of milk, orange juice and a set of bowls and spoons, the Joker makes his way up the stairs to a little place his oh-so-observant gaggle of goons had informed him of.

Without so much as a knock, he jiggles the doorknob, then shrugs and kicks the door open.

"Honey~, I brought breakfast!"

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Oh, that was a grimace-- it was uncomfortable and he could hardly move to correct it. It seemed pointless to point out that these were not meant for men and he could've gotten some that were, at least.

He was also horrified he was rationalizing this now.

"Answer my question."

"It's payback, didn't I already, uh, say that?"

He honestly couldn't look directly at Crane without breaking out into giggles even he couldn't control, so he took his time getting the dress, messing with the little hooks that ran down the back. It was a piece of work.

"Just be glad I didn't get you the, uh, matching bra. Really, dollface, did you think I was going to let you go so easy after you fucked with me?" He finally steeled himself, barely holding back another fit as he turned and went to attempt to get the dress on. It'd be easiest to go from the feet up... "I would have done this a while ago if the Batman hadn't interrupted."

So it really was that simple. Revenge. Not his kind, but he... couldn't blame him?

No, he could.

He steeled his jaw as the dress was practically shoved and put on him, arms protesting movement as he desperately willed them to fight Joker, to push him away, anything-- The sedative was good. Too good.

He swallowed thick, head lolling forward enough for him to murmur against his shoulder as he pulled it up around his middle, "Of all the things you could've done, Joker," hesitance, lips finding it harder to form words now, another burst of laughter burning his lungs as he willed it back, "I'm disappointed in you."

The dress looked...

Frighteningly good. It actually almost made Joker jealous to see it fit in all the right places, just like it really should. He had hips, but Crane had curves.

He paused when Crane spoke, arms around his chest to do up the hook and eye latches, and looked him straight in the eyes.

"If you want, I don't have to be done with just prettying you up, dollface." He stuck out his tongue, dragged it long and slow up Crane's neck to his ear -

"Don't egg me on, Crane."

When his body shuddered to the affection he realized how little control he actually had over it. He murmured low, "I could say the same."

Joker decided very quickly that no, he wasn't quite done.

He gave Crane's ear another lick, curling his tongue and biting down on the lobe briefly before pulling away. Before he moved to the table and one last bag, however, he gave the doctor's lap a firm pat, grinning wide at him.

"Now then..." He sauntered to the bag, pulling out what looked like a toolbox. He opened it and began pulling out little cases of different colored powders. "I see you with a smokey-eyed look. How's that sound, darling?"

He gave a shaky inhale, grimacing against his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut. It wasn't unusual how his body reacted, no, but he didn't approve-- not with Joker of all people. The uncultured, disgusting pig.

When he pulled away it was like a breath of fresh air-- literally, too.

"No," he responded cooly.

"No?" The Joker made a face and giggled, plucking out a few choice colors - eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick; he wouldn't bother with foundation, it would just look tacky on Crane's skin. "No? Like you have any say..."

He stuffed the supplies in his coat pocket and slid right back into Crane's lap, grabbing him by the chin to hold his face up. "You already look sexy as hell, so I can only imagine this will improve you - if not your rotten attitude. Where'd that bickering, catty little doctor go, anyway?"

He pulled out the eyeshadow. "Close your eyes."

He jerked as Joker grabbed his chin, managing a frown, not sure what the hell to say to whatever he was spouting at him; probably just said to rile him up and he knew better than to indulge it.

Crane leveled him with an absolutely loathing look before closing his eyes, lips pressed into an irritated line.

"Good boy," Joker chuckled, running a hand through Crane's hair in a faux show of affection before adjusting to start caking powder on the other's eyelids.

Despite the desire to be mean and heavy-handed, he couldn't help but be very careful applying the eyeshadow. He wasn't going to fuck the entire illusion up just because Crane was being a little bitch about everything, no. He was careful to apply all three different layers of powder, blending them with the back of the stick-brush and tutting once he was finished - black was a little too dark for him, but it matched the look. Besides, it was more of a dark gray - it'd do.

"I think - yeah, I think I'll be nice and forgo the eyeliner. I don't wanna, aheh, pop an eye out, do I?" He threw the eyeshadow back at the toolbox, wiggled in Crane's lap, and grabbed the mascara, drawing Crane's lower eyelid down with a finger. "You can open your eyes, by the way." Even if he might not want to. "What do you think - red or black lipstick?"

No response until he wiggled and it earned a muted noise, trying to draw his head away from him as he pulled at his eyelid. He blinked rapidly, wishing he could feel it, not surprised he couldn't.

Neither, neither, "Red."

Joker bit his lip at the noise, chewing on it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah - yeah. Black is so... cloying, you're too pretty for that."

He pulled out the lipstick he had picked up once he was done with the mascara, looking at the garish red for a minute before shaking his head. "Deeper, though, to - uh, really bring out that little pout of yours." He slid off Crane's lap, taking his time, then went back to dig around until he found a deeper, more mahogany kind of red. Lighter, too -

He practically pulled at Crane's lip when he sat down again, applying the color nice and as evenly as possible. He'd show anyone who ever thought he couldn't apply makeup --

"C'mon, dollface, smack your lips." He made an example of his own, nodding as he did so. "You really do look pretty, you know. I used to just, uh, say it in jest, but I'm really telling you the truth."

Neither would look good on me you imbecile, none of them. His chest heaved with a sigh, muscles protesting the movement and he dragged a hand into his lap, pushing at the hem of his dress. Great, he was feeling modest now.

Didn't have much time to, of course, with Joker back in his face. Lips parted compliantly, brows drawing as he watched him work, tried to understand why of all things he was gentle with, it was with this; surely humiliating him wasn't... He didn't want to think about it. Not now.

Crane refused the request, just spat angrily, "Stop saying that."

He pouted at Crane, tilting his head and wrapping his arms around the doctor's shoulders. "Aw, why, pumpkin? You aren't, haha, you aren't modest, after all. If you were, you wouldn't take such good care of yourself, keeping your skin and your teeth so nice and clean, keeping your hair," he grabbed a handful of Crane's hair and tugged a bit harshly, though not in any real malice, "Keeping your hair so neat and silky - no, you wouldn't do that, present yourself like the hot little shit you do if you were modest."

He grinned and laughed in Crane's face, licking his lips. "I'm actually kinda surprised nobody's dolled you up before. Then again, you are pretty relaxed right now. That may just be the sedatives talking, though."

He grunted to the pull, muscles offering no resistance. Internally he rationalized that he kept himself neat because he knew no other way; it'd always been a prime point in his life to be presentable. People didn't respect you, otherwise.

But no, he wasn't modest.

His eyes darted to watch him, expression distant and lacking the same emotion as before, especially when he smiled, laughed low. "You really think you're in control, don't you? I bet this gives you a rush."

"Would you rather be in control, here, Doc?" Joker laughed, licking his lips and shaking his head. "No, no, don't answer that. You'd fucking love it. And, y'know, yeah. Yeah, this is giving me a rush, but mostly for the fact that this?"

He leaned in again and nuzzled Crane's neck, giggling into his skin. "This makes you look just like a pretty little gal I used to know. Y'know, in the, uh, biblical sense - if y'know what I mean."

He smoothed Crane's hair out and smiled. "Why do you think I really like doing this, dollface? 'Cos we both know I'm lying. I wanna hear your input."

It was true, too. What he wouldn't give to be in control; he figured he might indulge Joker some, humor him but he also knew he only thought that because he was trying to justify whatever this was. Humoring, right? That's all.

Crane swallowed the forced laughter once more, inhaling sharp as Joker dipped to nuzzle his neck. His eyes widened some to the remark, unsure what to say about that. He let himself be momentarily fooled into thinking that maybe this was why he was doing this. Only momentarily.

"I think," he started, the smallest tremble in his voice which he quickly smoothed, that same professional tone starting, "I think you do this to bring people to your level. I think you want them to see what you see, be where you are-- in complete decadence. But I don't think that's why you like doing it." He wet his lips, glancing elsewhere. I don't know. "Maybe you live off cheap thrills, maybe it really gets you going to destroy the moral fiber of this city, maybe you just want to be remembered, infamous," he glanced back, a small smile turning his lips, "Maybe I'm giving you far too much intellectual credit."

"Maybe," Joker responded, leaning in to lick his lips - and maybe Crane's own, but the taste of lipstick is so similar to the paint on his face, how could he tell? - "Maybe, you're just overanalyzing it. I like it, though, you got that right - I like the feeling I get, being able to hold this city in my hands whenever I get bored, being able to tear down half the city in a day if I want. It's nice."

He giggled. "Maybe, y'know, maybe I'm just as stupid as you think I am. Wouldn't that be depressing? All my delusions of grandeur and I really am just the big stupid dog you think I am."

He turned his head to avoid his lips, a hand lifting slow to press to Joker's side, a weak push but one anyway and that gave him at lease a measure of confidence. He made this toxin and he'd nearly conquered the laughing, it would just take time for it to work out of his muscles.

"Or, maybe you're just insane. Maybe you're just crazy." That little word seems to send you off, lets see if I can get a rise out of you.

Joker slid with the push, giggling all the while before coming back with a sharp backhand across Crane's face. He was still grinning, but there was a sharp edge to it, teeth bared just a little more than what would be friendly.

"Last I heard, you were the one who got a straight-jacket. And you know, beautiful - I know you want me to be crazy. You want me to be batshit so you can have that little... edge over me, that would keep you from being fed to the wolves like me and Dent and the hundreds of goons I have at my fucking fingertips."

He presses his hand into Crane's cheek, almost gently, almost like an apology for smacking him - I had to do it, you were talking nonsense, I had to do it, you were speaking out of turn. "But you really, really don't have to worry, sweetie. I'm not gonna ever feed you to those mangy strays. You and me, dollface, you and me are on the same wavelength, and when Harvey gets up to speed us three? We're gonna be great. Fast friends."

And what's a little sexual harassment between friends? He rocked in Crane's lap and giggled.

The smacks stung and his head snapped with it, face feeling like abused playdough. He gaped for a moment, before glancing back, not so much unbelieving as... well, it hurt a lot more sedated, he hadn't expected that. Strange, must be a side effect, he would've figured something along the lines of the exact opposite.

Complacently he listened to him talk, showed no indication he agreed or disagreed, just that he was paying attention; his resolve to look as impassive as possible cracked with the rock, an alarmed noise swallowed quick with widened eyes, "I-- bet you tell everyone that."

"Oh, no." Joker actually looked offended, just a little, though it was exaggerated around the edges. "No, Doc, really. I wouldn't give you the same old spiel I give everyone. You're special."

He could barely contain his laughter and why should he? He let it out in a gasping sort of fit, hooking his feet around the chair legs to keep from falling out of Crane's lap. "God, that sounds so fucking trite, doesn't it? The kinda thing a guy like - haha, a guy like you would say to some broad you wanted to bang! 'You're special, baby, you're my one and only. Really!' But I'm being honest, Doc. So long as you and I can sit down and have these little chats - so long as you and I can have fun together, I'll keep the big bad wolves away. Think of it as, uh, my own personal agenda."

"Are you done talking?" Crane started with a lofted brow, entirely unmoved by his little speech. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure he should be more afraid that he did have Joker's... affections? Good will or if it was a horrible, horrible thing. As of right now it throughly seemed the latter.

He shifted just slightly beneath him, "Get out of my lap."

"But if I did that," he said, squirming a bit and leaning chest-to-chest with the doctor, "You'd have control again. And I thought I liked having control?"

Eat your words, Doctor.

He pressed hard back against the chair, urging his breaths calm and even, "I'd have you out of my lap, it doesn't mean I'd be in control." Pandering to the Joker in this case hopefully only had one meaning for Crane and he didn't care to feel his lips any more than he already had.

He attempted to squirm, though there was more effort put into actually getting his muscles and limbs to agree with him than anything else, followed by an arch away from the chair slow, tense, hands rising to press against him again. I want you off.

[RL - Breakfast at Crane's]

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